


Rude Boy

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ransom is an asshole, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spoilers, Vaginal Fingering, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22100512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You were warned to stay away from Ransom Drysdale. But he’s so damned irresistible.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Comments: 21
Kudos: 180





	Rude Boy

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was an asshole.

You’d been warned when you started working for Harlan Thrombey as a part-time housekeeper. Stay away from Linda and Richard’s son, stay away from Ransom.

_ He’s an asshole, Y/N. _

_ Ransom is nothing but trouble.  _

_ He’s a charmer, Y/N. He’ll talk you right out of your pants. Don’t let him _ .

Even Harlan had taken the time to warn you about his grandson.

“Ransom’s a handsome boy, Y/N. Charming. But, believe me, when I say you can’t trust him.  _ Don’t _ trust him.”

Unfortunately, all that stuff everyone was saying about him only made him more appealing. Ransom was the epitome of a bad boy and damn it, you had a weakness for bad boys. 

Sure enough, he lived up to his reputation. Spoiled. Bratty. Entitled. He’d stared at you the first time you’d met, a bottle of beer in his hand and a smirk on his face. He stared at you as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt on his clean, white shirt.

You could have drowned in his blue eyes.

Ransom didn’t stay long that night; his relationship with his family was tenuous, unstable. He seemed on edge throughout the entire meal, escaping out the door the second the food on his plate was gone. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind him.

It was probably for the best. Being around Ransom would lead to nothing but trouble. Thank God he only came around once in a while.

Three days later, Ransom moved his things into one of the spare bedrooms.

“He’s going to be my research assistant for the summer, Y/N,” Harlan explained. “Just ignore him and everything will be fine.”

That was easier said than done.

The next morning, you ran into Ransom in the kitchen. Literally. You turned from the sink, a full glass of water in your hand, to see Ransom standing in front of you, mere inches away. Startled, you screamed and jumped, the water sloshing over the side of the glass and splashing all over the front of Ransom’s gray t-shirt.

“Shit,” he shouted, jumping backward, pulling his wet shirt away from his body.

“Ransom!” you gasped. “Oh god, you scared me. I’m so sorry!”

“Hugh,” he growled. “The staff calls me Hugh.” He spun on his heel and hurried out of the kitchen.

You blew out a shaky breath. Well, the two of you were off to a great start.

Things didn’t get any better as the days progressed. You alternated between unbelievably pissed at Ransom to unbelievably attracted to Ransom, with no in-between. As for Ransom - Hugh - he either flat out ignored you or flirted with you until your brain hurt and you ached with need for him. He seemed to find new and interesting ways to torment you all summer long.

Leaning against the door leading to the dining room, eating a sandwich, watching you, his eyes drifting over your body as you cleaned, not saying a word, the weight of his stare so heavy he might as well have been touching you.

“You should go out with me, Y/N,” he smirked.

Bumping into him in the upstairs hallway as he came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. His hand fell to your waist, his body pressed against yours, his heat seeping into you, his breath hot against your skin, droplets of water still dripping down his torso. You stared up at him, his blue eyes consuming you. He chuckled, the sound going straight to your center, making you tremble.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he whispered before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth and walking away, his bedroom door slamming closed behind him.

Finding you in the pantry, putting away the groceries. He stepped inside, reaching past you to grab a bag of chips off the shelf, the tips of his fingers brushing across your shoulders. He rested one hand on the shelf above your head, the bag of chips clutched in his other. He was so close you could smell him, his expensive cologne, that gum he sometimes chewed to cover up the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, and old books, like the ones he was digging through this summer. You held your breath and reminded yourself that he was off-limits. 

He leaned in and murmured “Hi”, his lips brushing your earlobe. And then he was gone.

Every day was something else, another thing, another way for Ransom to get under your skin. And get under your skin was exactly what he did. You couldn’t resist him. You had fallen for Hugh Ransom Drysdale despite everyone’s warnings. Despite your promise to yourself that this time, you wouldn’t fall for the quintessential bad boy.

You were so damn predictable.

By the beginning of August, you’d grown accustomed to Ransom’s advances, the push and the pull, going from Ransom flirting like crazy to Ransom acting like you didn’t exist. It was nerve-wracking and frustrating and it only made you want him more. Going to work was like torture. Pure, wonderful torture. You weren’t sure how much longer you could resist him.

You were relieved when you found out Harlan and Ransom would be out of the house for a few days, leaving early each morning for a writing conference in Boston. You needed a break from the incessant torment that was Ransom before you spontaneously combusted, or worse, threw yourself at him and begged him to fuck you. 

It would also give you a chance to clean Harlan’s office, a room you’d avoided since Ransom had come to work for his grandfather. The thought of being in there alone, with him, had scared you and turned you on all at once.

The first morning they were gone, you showed up for work in cutoffs and a light cotton t-shirt, thanks to the unusually hot summer weather and the fact that you would be alone in the big house. You wanted to get Harlan’s office cleaned as quickly as possible before they returned from Boston for the day.

You put in your headphones, pulled up one of your favorite playlists on Spotify, and hit shuffle, then you shoved your phone in your back pocket. You turned the volume up, drowning out all other sounds, and set to work. Your hips swayed in time to the music, the beat moving through you. You hummed along, occasionally singing along quietly with the song.

Several songs and a full trash bag later, you were singing at the top of your lungs and shimmying around the room, dancing to the music filling your head. It wasn’t like anyone could see you; you were alone.

You had the music at deafening levels and you were preoccupied with cleaning, so much so that you didn’t hear the front door slam, or your name being called, or the sexy chuckle that came from the office door. In fact, you had no idea anyone was even in the room with you until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You jumped and yanked one of the earbuds out of your ear, watching it as it fell to the floor, right between a pair of brown suede boots.

You swung around to see Ransom standing right behind you, his hands on his hips, that damn cocky, shit-eating grin on his handsome face. He snatched the earbud off the floor and stuck it in his ear, grinning as he heard the song you’d been listening to.

“Interesting choice,” he murmured in as the second verse of Rihanna’s Rude Boy started. He grabbed your hips and tugged you close, holding you snug against him.

You froze, not moving, unsure what, if anything, you should do. You knew what you  _ wanted _ to do, but you didn’t want to fall for the bad boy again and get your heart broken once more.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice low and sexy, filled with pure desire. “Don’t you wanna dance with me?”

You closed your eyes, your head falling against Ransom’s shoulder. Desire pooled deep in your stomach, spreading through your nerve endings, making your heart race and your blood boil.

“We can’t,” you said.

“Mm, but we can,” he chuckled. “You know you want to.” His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers slipping under the edge of your shirt, rubbing against your skin. His breath was hot on your neck, his lips brushing against your ear. He was humming along with the song, the sound vibrating through you.

“That’s it,” he sighed. “Let yourself go, Y/N. Dance with me.”

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to relax and slowly swayed your hips from side to side. Ransom growled low in the back of his throat and pulled your arms around his neck, his hips - and burgeoning erection - snug against yours. You clasped your shaking hands together.

“Okay, I’m dancing,” you whispered.

“Yes, you are,” Ransom smirked. “With me, nonetheless.” He leaned over you and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You sure you okay with this?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’m...I’m good.”

Ransom moved slowly, circling the room, keeping you close as the two of you moved in shuffling, awkward steps around the room. You’d circled the room twice before he pushed you against the wall by the door, his entire body flush against yours. You could feel everything - the hard muscles beneath his clothes, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took, and the evidence of his arousal brushing your hip. He ducked his head, his lips moving across your throat, sucking and biting the skin beneath your jaw as he held you.

You ran your hands down his muscular chest and over his tight abs, gasping as he nipped at your pulse point. Ransom took your wrist, urging you to touch him, pushing his hips toward your hand, his erection growing as you palmed him, rubbing him along the seam of his zipper.

Ransom’s hands slid down your sides, from your waist to your ass, cupping both cheeks and pulling your body tight against his, leaving no space between the two of you. His attention moved from your neck to your mouth, catching your lips in a blistering kiss.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, breaking off the kiss for just a moment.

“No,” you shook your head. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Shit, that’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he growled, pushing you back against the wall, his hands on your breasts, kneading them roughly through the fabric of your shirt as he leaned over and kissed you again.

Ransom unbuttoned your shorts and pushed them down until they fell around your ankles. You kicked them away, then you wrapped one leg around the back of Ransom’s thigh as his fingers sought out your warm core.

You groaned as his fingers eased into you, caressing you, opening you up for him. He picked you up and held you against the wall, using his body to hold you in place, nuzzling your breasts through the thin t-shirt, biting at your erect nipple.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he mumbled. “Is that all for me, baby? Does thinking about me, touching me, kissing me, wanting to fuck me, does that make you wet?”

You couldn’t think straight, let alone speak, your breath tearing in and out of your throat, your entire body on fire from Ransom’s touch, trembling.

Ransom twisted his fingers in your hair and yanked your head back, attacking your neck with renewed vigor, leaving a trail of bite marks along your throat.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“Yes,” you gasped. “Yes, it’s all you. You drive me crazy, Ransom.”

“Undo my pants,” Ransom ordered.

You hurried to unbutton his jeans, fumbling as your hands shook, finally getting them open enough that you could slide your hand past the waistband to grasp his hard shaft, your thumb dancing along the tip as your fingers ran up and down the thick vein on the underside. Ransom pressed a condom into your hand, kissing you impatiently as you opened it and slid it down his hard shaft. 

Ransom groaned obscenely, took hold of your leg, and pulled it around his waist. His cock teased you, the head just pushing into your wet entrance. He entered you slowly, drawing it out, teasing you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him with a desperate need, whimpering at the feeling of fullness once he was fully seated inside you. When he moved, his hips thrusting up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly, you nearly came undone. He began to move, slow, easy strokes that left you wanting more.

“Oh my God,” you moaned into his mouth.

Ransom braced one hand against the wall, his other sliding around your waist, his fingers digging into your hips. He thrust hard, burying himself deep inside you with a loud grunt. He held himself still, his cock pulsing, drawing out the torment, your body screaming for more, wiggling in his grasp. He waited until you thought you might pass out with need, then he pulled out and slammed back into you, his hips moving at an ungodly pace, your back hitting the wall over and over as he thrust into you.

It didn’t take long before you were screaming your release, your orgasm racing through you at a fiery pace, consuming you, destroying you, marking you as Ransom’s forever.

Ransom continued his onslaught, pounding into you, until he came, shuddering, his cock jerking repeatedly. He held you against the wall, his lips on your neck, marking you as the high from the mind-blowing, impromptu sex faded to a pleasant memory. By the time he set you on your feet, you were breathing normally, though your legs were shaking, barely holding you up. You snatched your shorts from the floor and pulled them on.

Ransom tucked himself back into his pants and straightened his shirt then he grabbed a briefcase from the top of the desk. He paused beside you where you were still standing beside the door.

“Ransom, I…”

He pressed a finger to your lips, cutting you off.

“Hugh,” he smirked. “The staff calls me Hugh.”

He stalked out of the office, the front door slamming closed behind him a few seconds later.


End file.
